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Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace.

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.”

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive.

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her.

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing.

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch.

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing.

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation.

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps.

You don’t.

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks.

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore.

i miss you

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t.

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her.

What you’d give to have good sex like that again.

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name:

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away.

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea.

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past.

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply.

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family.

Stop texting me or I’ll block you.

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her.

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast.

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door.

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink.

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed.

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything.

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away.

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again.

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know.

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth.

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen.

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair.

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past.

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that?

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone.

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed.

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck.

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her.

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!”

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips.

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her.

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder.

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you.

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?”

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you.

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb.

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear.

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal.

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically.

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste.

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food.

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?”

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together.

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers.

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief.

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips.

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity.

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit.

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again.

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her.

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt.

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again.

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too.

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet. “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.”

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white.

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears.

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming. This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt.

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it.

The tears finally fall from her eyes.

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…”

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her.

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes.

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby.

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying.

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you.

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say.

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

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saltandburnheathens · 23 days

Text

Good morning Miss Winnie.

Part II

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

You've just given birth to Dean's baby and are a enjoying a quiet family moment in the days afterwards.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

The bunker was quiet first thing in the morning except for the usual hum of the circulation fans. You’d been there so long that they barely registered anymore, and you were extremely thankful that the consistent noise wasn’t a problem for the baby. That would have been a horror show. Trying to navigate parenthood with a baby awoken by the simplest of sounds.

You shuddered at the thought.

Life was always loud when you lived with Dean Winchester and his posse of colour characters. Between unexpected visitors and the brothers coming and going at odd hours, there was something new every day and often that new wasn’t good.

But in that moment things were perfect. The monsters outside didn’t exist and you were a regular mom with a new baby and a husband who loved you. His bother Sam and best friend Castiel were an added bonus, the former serving as an unexpected asset when both you and Dean needed some rest.

You crept carefully out of bed, your body still feeling weak, and quietly crossed to the crib by the wall. A set of hazel eyes stared up at you and your heart melted.

“Good morning Miss Winnie.” You cooed, “Let’s get you up and at ‘em before you wake daddy.”

You heard a small scoff followed by the shuffling of blankets.

“Winnie?” Dean asked with a sleep-laden voice, “We ain’t calling her Winnie, sweetheart. I’ll accept those new-agey-hippy-names like Kendell and Kloe with a K before I’ll take Winnie.”

“I’m just calling her that until we choose a name.” You laughed, lifting the little girl up into your arms, her head coming to rest on your chest, “And Winnie is short for Winchester in case you hadn’t pieced that together.”

“I don’t care if it’s short for ‘daddy’s-little-angel’, it ain’t happening.”

“I’ll cross that off my list then shall I?” You sat back on the bed, Dean coming up to nest beside you and his eyes immediately going to the baby in your arms.

He smiled, creases forming at the corners of his eyes.

“You’re not a Winnie, are ya’ princess?” In that voice he seemed to only have adapted five days ago after the birth of your daughter; that voice reserved for her.

“Maybe not. What about Meghan?” You suggest.

“Oh nope. No can do. Knew a Meg once. Demon.”

You nodded knowingly. No one wanted to name their child after a monster.

“Stevie?” Dean carried on, his eyes still fixed on the baby.

“Like Stevie Nicks?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not seeing it. Samatha?”

“Already got one Sam in this bunker and that’s more than enough. Alice?”

“Can’t do it. All I’ll keep hearing is ‘who the fuck is Alice’, and I don’t want my kid to be subjected to that for the rest of their life.”

You both laughed, interrupted only by the whine building in the little one’s chest. You quickly jumped to action and proceeded to the morning routine you’d been adjusting to since getting back home. Dean followed you, rubbing at his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve had hangovers that made me feel quite as bad as waking up five times at night.” He yawned.

You handed him a dirty diaper and smiled as he grimaced.

“You can go back to bed if you want. I can manage by myself.”

“Sweetheart, you just damn near broke your pelvis giving birth to my kid a few days ago. I’m in this from start to finish, and if that means running on caffeine and a prayer, then I’m game. Even for the diapers.”

Dean rummaged through the first drawer of their dresser and pulled out a small onesie covered in colourful dinosaurs. He held it up in front of him and smiled.

“It’s hard to believe how small she is, huh?”

“She didn’t feel so small coming out of me.” You quipped, taking the clothing from him to finally cover the squirming child on the changer, “I’m pretty sure my vagina will never be the same.”

“That’s blasphemy.” Dean gasped playfully, “But seriously, baby, the doctor said that it’ll take a few weeks before you start to feel normal.”

“Normal is subjective when you’re postpartum.”

Holding his baby tight to his chest, Dean lent down and kissed you softly on the lips. His green eyes fluttered up to meet yours.

“Let’s face it, ain’t nothing normal about either of us in the first place.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dad!dean winchester #dad!dean

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 5 months

Text

Howling Hearts

Summary: Countess Romanoff and her lover, Lady Maximoff, find themselves inexplicably drawn to the Countesses oldest, most trusted and loyal guards. One night after a particularly rambunctious banquet, they finally decide to act on these forbidden urges and claim the two wolves as their own.

Warnings: talk of blood/feeding on blood, graphic violence, slight Omegaverse concepts for the werewolves, Reader has a penis, sexual content (fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, breeding)

Authors note: first time writing Bucky in anything, so please go easy on me if he seems out of character at any point 💖

Authors note 2.0: sorry this is later than intended, still hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 10011 (im sorry its so long lmao) 2023 Halloween Specials Marvel Masterlist

It was a cool evening, and a soft rain pattered against the castle's stained glass windows, providing a tranquil atmosphere to the room. Several times now you've become a bit lost in that feeling and have let your eyes linger a bit too long on Countess Romanoff as she sits in her exquisite chair by the fireplace.

Admiring her wasn’t new, in fact you were sure that after so many centuries you could paint the curve of her lips blindfolded and you were certain that your mate James could too. But lusting after the vampire that you were in service of wasn’t exactly acceptable behavior. If any other werewolf heard of such a thing it wouldn't go over well. Falling for the species that imprisoned yours to use like glorified watch dogs…they’d shun you at the very least.

“Lady Romanoff, Starks fledgling is here to see you.” one of her guards announces, breaking the peaceful silence

A brunette boy stands there beside the guard with wide eyes and he quickly offers the Countess a polite bow. She chuckles at his clear nervous energy and beckons him forward. Somehow the young vampires wobbly legs carry him further into the room

“So young one” the Countess begins, giving the visitor her full attention “What brings you here on this lovely evening?”

And lovely it had been indeed. With her lover out for the day it left her able to just focus on the presence of her two oldest and most trusted guards, her wolves. Something Wanda would indulge in as well, but normally they’d be too wrapped up in each other to daydream long. At least while in the same room as you, in their bedchambers it was a different story. But alas, the arrival of this fledgling had chased her decidedly naughty thoughts from her head.

“Lord Stark wanted you to be informed that he and Lady Potts shall be in attendance of your upcoming banquet” he tells her, looking like he might pass out from anxiety at any second

“Thank you and I’m glad to hear that. Do give them my best when you return home”

He quickly nods and understanding that to be a dismissal he turns on his heels and heads back out the door you're standing by. He passes you with such a speed that you have half a mind to tell him to let the horse ride in the carriage as he takes the reins, but you hold your tongue. A good thing too, because no sooner did he disappear from view did Lady Maximoff arrive.

She smiles as she passes by and heads straight for her lover, kissing the woman's cheek before taking a seat on her lap. You're used to such behavior by now, but at the start it had surprised you, as the Countess was not one to allow such affections from her nightly escapades. Then again, Wanda had always been different. She wasn’t some fledgling picked up for fun, nor was she a human chosen to be a plaything before a meal. No, she was every part an elder vampire, just as your master was, and they were quite old friends before the relationship ever began.

“Hello moya lyubov'(my love), is your brother well?”

The brunette smiles, “He is, and still annoying. Who did I pass in the hallway?”

“Starks fledgling, here to tell me that my invite was accepted” she explains

“Oh good. It's not a proper banquet without Tony”

The redhead chuckles, “How very true. We’ll have to have the kitchen staff keep extra glassware on hand, just in case he causes a debacle like last time.”

The two continue talking, making plans for the upcoming party as well as catching up on what the other had been up to in the few hours that they had been apart. You and James tried your best to stay focused and not watch the way the Countesses hands roamed across her lover's waistline and mid back as they converse but that proved to be a very difficult task.

Eventually one of their servants enters the room with two goblets, indicating it was time for the two women to feed. Now, they could eat food like you and James did, but it did nothing for them. It didn't fill them or give them sustenance so it was something that they really only did when they felt like it or were craving something particular. Otherwise, it was all blood. The fresher, the better.

"Here you are, my Lady" the servant greets, handing both women their cups

“Thank you Sylvia” the Countess says before taking a deep gulp

The servant quickly excuses herself, heading back to whatever duties she was attending to before she needed to bring the two women their meal, and part of you wishes you could follow her. Not because you wished to be apart from anyone you were currently in the company of, but due to the feeling that stirs in your gut, and to your embarrassment, sometimes your pants, when you witnessed the women consume blood.

You couldn’t help it, there was just something about being able to watch them feed. The way their fangs grew before they sunk them into their victim, their eyes turning nearly black as they drained the person's essence to fulfill their need was incredibly enchanting. And the way the red liquid dripped from the corners of their mouth, or how they licked their lips afterwards had your heart racing. Which is exactly how you feel now as a drop of blood trickles down from the corner of the Countesses mouth, down past her jawline and down her neck.

Wanda notices this droplet as soon as Natasha moves her cup and she wastes no time in leaning over, letting her tongue lap up the treat before she attaches her lips to that same spot. She begins to suck a mark into the pale skin there, eliciting a throaty chuckle from the older vampire

“Behave. You are not the only one currently present”

Wanda's eyes travel over to James as she continues to mark up Natasha, before they eventually move to look at you as well. You sincerely hope she hadn’t noticed the way you shifted your stance in order to adjust the growing bulge at the front of your pants. The last thing you wanted was for either woman to begin to feel uncomfortable around you, or find you some kind of pervert.

“Dorogoy(darling), I said behave” the older woman repeats, gently tugging Wanda's hair to remove her from her neck and get her attention once more

“But I like getting to mark you. I like the reaction it elicits”

Natasha smiles, “I like it too. But if that's something you want, then our room is a much more suitable place for us”

Wanda wordlessly removes herself from her girlfriend's lap and waits for the redhead to stand before they both begin to make her way towards the doorway where you and James stand by. Wanda shyly smiles at you both and turns to the left, indicating that the bedchamber was exactly where they were headed

“If anyone needs me” the Countess states, looking at James, “I’m not to be disturbed until I’m out of my room. Unless it's of utmost urgency”

“Of course, my Lady” he responds, and she quickly follows after the brunette. After he's sure she's out of hearing range he looks to you with a brow raised, “Really?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Down the hall, Wanda finds herself pinned to the mattress as Natasha slowly undresses her, “So wet already. You get turned on marking me up in front of them?”

“Yes” she whimpers, remembering how she felt like she was putting on a show for you both earlier

“Mmm, you weren’t the only one” Nat replies against her lovers ear, making the younger vampire shudder, “They liked it too”

Wanda's eyes shut as she tilts her head back, the feeling of hands roaming across her now bare body fogging her mind. Still she manages a reply, “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes. Couldn't you see the hunger in their eyes? Or the bulge in Y/ns pants?"

Another whimper leaves the brunette as Natasha gropes her breasts, "Yes, I saw"

"And you liked it, didn't you? Causing that reaction in them."

"I loved it…" she admits, looking into Nats eyes, "I want them, Tasha"

"I know, my love. I do too, but you know we can't." She sighs, "Even if they feel the same, you know we can't. Our laws forbid it."

Wanda sighs, a sadness now etched upon her features, "But I don't care about keeping the bloodline pure, and neither do you. So why can't we indulge in our heart's desires?"

"Because we could be found out, which would endanger James and Y/n"

"But- "

"Shhh darling" Nat interrupts, kissing her girlfriend's plush lips, "Just focus here right now. Can you do that for me?" The younger vampire nods and Natasha smirks at how eager she already seems, “Good girl”

The mixture of praise and her girlfriend's touch causes Wanda to moan, and Natasha finds herself eager to hear more. She pulls more sounds from the brunette by pinching her nipples and sucking marks along her collarbone, letting her fangs brush against the sensitive skin there.

Occupied by her lover's mouth, Wanda had failed to notice the removal of one of Natashas hands from her chest, until she felt a thumb press against her clit. Her hips jump slightly and another, more throaty moan leaves her as Nat slides a finger through her wet folds

Wanda whimpers, her walls clenching around nothing, “I need you inside me, please”

“I’ve got you” Nat coos, slowly inserting one of her fingers into her girlfriends tight hole

“Please, more” she begs, and taking note of how wet she already is, Natasha slides a second finger inside, stretching her open as her thumb circles her clit, “Oh god, fuck me Tasha, please”

Nat smirks and quickly begins to thrust her fingers, and she leans down to capture her lips in a kiss. She easily dominates the action, sliding her tongue into the awaiting girl's mouth while avoiding her fangs. Wanda's walls tighten around the older woman's fingers, causing her to smile and break away from the kiss

“That feel good, my love?”

“So…good” she pants, trying hard to catch the breath Nat keeps stealing from her, but its of no use when the redhead quickens her pace, “Ooh fuck!”

“Which one are you picturing taking you right now?” Nat asks, smirk still plastered on her face. Wanda only wimpers, her fists tightening against the silk sheets as her head leans back, “It's ok darling, you can tell me. I wanna know”

“James!” she practically shouts, feeling herself nearing her orgasm

“Leaving poor Y/n out, hm?” Nat teases

“No” she gasps, trying hard to focus on her fantasy, “She's…ooh!”

Nat soothes her by kissing her chest softly, “She's what? Tell me”

“She's making me suck her cock”

Nat hums, fully agreeing with the mental picture her lover is painting, “I bet she tastes so good. Don’t you think?”

“Yes!” she moans, her back arching off the bed

“And James would absolutely fill your pretty pussy up, is that what you want?” she questions, nipping at the younger girls jawline

The brunette's walls clamp down around Nat's fingers, “Yes! Oh god Tasha, please can I cum?”

“Go ahead dorogoy(darling), cum”

Wanda's legs shake as a loud moan leaves her, and her juices drip down her girlfriends hand to the sheets below. Natasha continues to slowly fuck her through her orgasm, prolonging her high until all she can do is whimper and grab at the older woman.

“Good girl” she praises, gently pulling her fingers free before licking them clean, “Mmm, I’ll never tire of how you taste”

“Can I taste you now? Please?”

Nat smiles and quickly rids herself of her own clothes before she settles herself against the mattress, and if that wasn’t a clear enough ‘yes’ she spreads her thighs wide to reveal her pussy

“So pretty” Wanda mumbles, leaning in to pepper her girlfriend's thighs with marks of their own

The closer she gets to the redheads core, the more intense the older womans breathing becomes, until finally it's too much for her to take, “Come on darling, I thought you wanted to taste”

Wanda quickly lets her tongue dart out, lapping up some of her girlfriends essence that had leaked out. The older woman lets out a small moan, which only urges Wanda on. She licks again, this time letting her tongue go even deeper inside as her nose bumps against Nats clit

“Oh god, just like that”

Priding herself on doing as she told, Wanda keeps going, exploring every part of the beautiful redhead before her with her talented mouth. The moans she's able to get her girlfriend to make only make her want to cause her more pleasure, and Natasha quickly finds herself reaching her own release

“Fuck…” she mumbles, struggling to voice her own fantasy, “I wonder if Y/n can eat pussy as good as you”

Wanda nips at the woman, meaning it as more of a ‘no ones as good as me’, but all it manages to do is leave her girlfriend grinding against her face

“I’m so close Wans, please”

Hearing her lovers please Wanda moves to suck on her clit and is rewarded with a gush of juices and a scream of her name. She carefully moves up the bed, straddling her lover's body before kissing her. The two stay locked together, passionately making out for what seems like hours as they continue to pleasure each other. Effectively ending the night as they did most, with whispered declarations of love and shared fantasies of their favorite werewolves.

They're awoken the next morning by a loud pounding on their wooden door, "My Lady, pardon me waking you, but I imagine your guests will be arriving within the next few hours. I wouldn't want you to oversleep"

A soft smile spreads across the redhead's face, "Thank you, Y/n. We'll be out shortly. Do tell Sylvia not to fret"

"Yes, my Lady"

Once Wandas sure you're out of earshot, she turns to her lover, "I do wish that maybe just once, they'd have to come in here to wake us. I'd love to just pull them into the bed with us"

Nat chuckles, "Naughty girl"

"Not like that. Not this time at least." Wanda corrects, "Right now, I just want to cuddle. I want to feel their arms wrapped around us as we all share the bed"

"It does sound wonderful…" the Countess sighs

"But it's just a dream, isn't it?"

Natasha gives her a tight lipped smile, "I'm afraid so, dorogoy(darling). Now come, we need to get dressed for the banquet"

After trying on multiple dresses each, they both finally settle on their choices and proceed to get ready. Wanda is dressed in a maroon dress, with her hair done up in a low bun. A few red gemstones decorate her hair to tie into her gown while a delicate necklace adorns her neckline. It was a gift from Nat earlier in their relationship, a golden chain with a dangling centerpiece consisting of golden knots and rubies. Natasha is in a black dress, her hair done up in exquisite braids with small charms and gemstones decorating it. Around her neck she wears a golden necklace with multiple chains dangling from it, each adorned with a few rubies. At the very center hangs a larger pendant that dips quite low, sitting snugly in her cleavage.

By the time they arrive in the grand hall, the area has been completely set up by the Countesses staff. The large gathering table for the heads of houses sits up front, while a few others are spread around the vast area. Each is decorated with an ornate cloth and set with plates and goblets for meal time. A few large candles sit at the center of each table with wines on either side for their guests to freely drink from.

“My Lady” you greet, entering the room with a large tray of hors d'oeuvres

“Y/n” she greets, swiping two samples from your tray. She hands one to Wanda before biting into it, “Mmm, the kitchen staff have done an excellent job”

“They’ll be happy to hear that” you reply before making your way around the room to distribute the food to each table, “The main course should be ready about an hour after everyone's arrival, and James is tending to the humans chosen for tonight. But he’ll be joining us soon”

“Perfect, thank you”

With your task done, you can finally focus on them, which allows you to fully take in their appearance. And the words came out of your mouth before you even realized you were saying them, “Wow. The two of you look incredible”

Both women smile, which helps to calm your nerves of overstepping a boundary. And if you didn’t know better, you’d swear a hint of pink was now visible on their cheeks, but vampires didn’t blush, right? And if they did, it certainly wouldn’t be due to a compliment from a lowly werewolf

“Thank you, Y/n” Wanda says, pulling you from your thoughts, “You look great tonight too”

“You really think so?” you ask, glancing down at your outfit

The Countess had gotten you and James formal attire a while back for situations like this, because every other house just had its wolves show up in a regular outfit, which she admits she did as well. Until she overheard a group of wolves talking about how ostracized they felt at events and gatherings, and she wanted you both to feel included. But she and Wanda had yet to actually see you wear them.

“Absolutely, you look quite dashing” Natasha quickly condoms

You smiles shyly, “Thank you, my Lady, and you as well, Lady Maximoff”

Before either woman can continue the conversation, James arrives carrying an ornate dagger in its sheath, “My Lady, the humans are all properly secure and are all still in perfect condition for this evening.”

“Thank you James” she replies, “Go ahead and set that by my seat”

“Of course”

As he moves to do as he's told, both women appreciate the way he looks in his new uniform as well. You can’t help but notice them doing this, and you find yourself wondering if they had been looking at you with that same amount of interest. The idea that they could have has your mind swimming with thoughts on what that could mean.

“James, you look good in your suit too” Wanda finally offers up

He smiles, “Thank you Lady Maximoff, I tried to clean up nicely for this evening”

“And you did a wonderful job. You both did” the Countess assures, watching fondly as the two of continue to carry out your duties

A few hours later and the banquet is in full swing. Many of the Countesses' friends and acquaintances are in attendance, bringing along a handful of their own guards or a couple of their werewolves to ensure the safety of themselves both during travel and here in the Countesses castle. The grand hall was quite full due to this, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t put you a bit on edge.

You knew your Countess didn’t necessarily trust everyone she invited, but had to do it to keep the peace among the elder vampires and their houses. Meaning that someone here could easily be at odds with her, and with a handful of guards at their disposal they could cause a disturbance and multiple injuries if they chose to do so. Not to mention how easily someone with ill intentions could slip in and remain hidden in a crowd this large.

“You alright?” James asks, coming to stand beside you, his hand caresses your shoulder gently to hopefully ease some tension away from you

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just….I don’t know, something seems off. Like there's an unnecessary heaviness in the air” you explain, eyeing the room suspiciously

He nods, “Yeah, I feel it too. Might just be our nerves, or it might be something, so lets stay on our toes just to be sure”

You agree and the two of you do your best to not stray far from the main table for the next hour, wanting to ensure the safety of both your Countess and her girlfriend. If one of you had to do something or got called to have a conversation, the other made sure to not stray. And thankfully, so far, everything has been going well.

“You know, if Lord Pyms fledgling isn’t careful with how he holds the elders daughter while dancing with her, we might have to step in to make sure Scott doesn’t lose his hands.”

You glance over and notice Scotts hand dangerously low on Hopes back and catch the glare the older man is sending the two as they remain oblivious, “Oh, I would hate to be on the receiving end of a look like that. He's absolutely going to get a reprimand the entire way home tonight”

“Guarantee it.” another voice replies, causing both of you to look in its direction.

“Carol, glad you're here”. It's nice to see you. you happily greet, having not seen the blonde werewolf in some time

“You too, Y/n” she says with a smile, turning to look at your partner, “And you as well James.”

“Hi Carol. Maria here too?”

She nods, “Of course she is, Count Fury wouldn’t go anywhere without both of us. Ah, there she is now”

“Hey guys” the raven haired werewolf greets, and her mate happily kisses her cheek, “How are the two of you?”

“We’re well” James replies, linking his fingers with yours, “How about the two of you?”

“We’re good too” Carol replies, pausing to look at you, “Have the two of you been allowed to find an Omega yet?”

You swallow and glance at James, unsure of what to say. Because packs worked a certain way, and that's essentially what a group of guards under a vampire's service was, a very small pack. Alphas were in charge, generally more offensive in actions, and were the ones responsible for breeding. And Omegas, who were still an equal threat despite generally being more defensive, and the ones that would carry any children. And due to you being in the service of vampires, you’d have to get their permission before finding mates and expanding your pack. Which, as Alphas, you and James had a big say in.

And it's not like your Countess had forbid you from looking for an Omega, but it's not like you had asked either. Whether that was due to the two of you being content without more of a pack, or due to the two of you being infatuated with the two vampires was another matter. One that you couldn’t admit to.

“Uh, well, we haven’t really brought it up to anyone yet” James admits, causing the two to share a look that you have a bad feeling about

Back up at the main table the Countess sighs as Lord Rogers continues to drone on about something that not only happened thousands of years ago, but that he retold at every gathering. Wanda gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she turns to find the brunette rolling her eyes. She chuckles lightly at the action, until Count Fury sits down beside her

“Countess Romanoff, such a lovely banquet so far. Though, personally I would have gone for whiskey instead of wine”

She smiles, “Count Fury, I’m glad you could join us this time. I can have a servant get you some whiskey if you’d like”

“I’d appreciate that”

She quickly signals for Sylvia, who is just as quick to appear, “Please bring out one of our finest whiskies and a glass for the Count here”

She nods and does as told. He takes his time pouring a glass sampling it. Once satisfied with it he fills the glass entirely before refocusing on conversation, “Seems my Omega wolves have taken a liking to your Alpha ones”

Her eyes immediately snap up, trying to find you and James in the crowd, and once she does she hates what she sees. Carol is standing mere inches from you with her hand resting along your bicep while Maria stands inches away from James, brushing a long stand of loose hair back behind his ear.

Her jaw clenches as she watches neither of you do anything about their close proximity, and has half a mind to let Wanda go over there and sort things out. But she can’t afford to have a scene caused due her her affections for the two of you

“The bitches will be in their heat soon, if you're looking to let your wolves have a bit of fun, I’m sure we could strike a deal”

Her stomach sinks at the very clear implication, and based on how quickly she sees Wanda turn her head from the two of you back to her, she knows her girlfriend felt the same dread

“I can assure you that they both come from good backgrounds genetically. And they've never laid with any Alphas before, your wolves would be the first, and presumably last.”

“No thank you”

He raised a brow, apparently surprised,“Are you certain? They seem like a good match.”

“She said no” Wanda interjects, practically ready to go shove the mans wolves away from you and James

Nat raises her hand to signal her girlfriend to contain herself, “The offer is very generous, but I must decline. I’m afraid that my wolves have yet to show interest in such a thing”

“A little push surely wouldn’t hurt matters, but if you are sure in your decision then there's nothing I can do about it”

“No, there isn’t” she affirms, signaling for her servants to bring out the humans. Her anger needed to be taken out on something, and this would also allow her to temper her hunger

A row of chained nude men and women are led into the room and brought before the main table, prompting the Countess to stand and grab the ornate dagger. She makes her way to the first person and smirks, “This won’t be quick”

Before he can even register it, the dagger is brought across his neck and he slumps backward as blood begins to pour from the wound, prompting the remaining humans to let out noises of shock and disdain. You and your mate can only stare in awe at her brutal efficiency.

“Who would like a taste?” she offers, beginning to take goblets shoved her way to fill

You and James watch on as your Countess helps fill chalices for those that approach her, but suddenly a sharp movement to your left catches your attention. You turn to find a group of four men attempting to approach her, but something is off with them. They seem determined, focused. That's when you spot their gear, strategically hidden within their cloaks. Miniature crossbows and blades.

“James, we need to move. Now!” Your stern tone immediately has his attention and he turns in time to catch you shifting into your werewolf form.

You cause a bit of a commotion as you turn, pushing others down or shoving them away as your size increases and black fur begins to cover your body. People quickly make room for you, effectively halting the men you would soon be after in their tracks, as they are cut off or bumped into.

Seeing you transform, Wanda is on her feet at once, “Y/n?”

Nats eyes move to you then, and her brows furrowed in confusion as she sees you in your werewolf form standing there on your hindlegs, towering over everyone. She only becomes more concerned when your lip curls back in a snarl and a deep growl emanates from your chest.

“Hey! Control your mutt!” someone, who is quite obviously a vampire shouts, and a good amount of others begin to murmur in agreement

But it’s then James sees them too, as they all turn to lock eyes with you, “Go, I’m right behind you.”

You lunge through the crowd, causing a surprised gasp of indignation to leave the vampires, who somehow still haven’t managed to sniff out the humans in their midst. But the roar-like sound that leaves you as your ears pin back quickly has them fleeing the area of whatever you have perceived as a threat. You land a few feet in front of the small group, and the room is quickly being cleared of all other guests and guards aside from those at the main table, effectively plugging up the rooms entryways and stopping more of the Countesses guards from rushing in

“We ain't here for you!” the one shouts, “Move outta the way and I’ll reward you with your freedom!”

Your growl at them and bare your teeth, obviously not swayed by such a thing, afterall Natasha was good to you. She fed you, clothed you, even let you have a room, and you'd never known what it was like to be on a chain or to be whipped. No, you had it good here, the best as far as werewolf standards could go. Plus, you were kinda hopelessly in love with her and her girlfriend, so to you and James, this was freedom.

You stalk forward a few paces, and they all finally reveal their weapons, aiming them at you. Both Natasha and Wanda can feel their own lips curling back in snarls, showing off their fangs. Neither can tell though if it's due to the anger at the brazen attack or their protectiveness for you however.

“We just want Romanoffs head” another one of them declares, chuckling, “It’s gonna look real nice on a pick in the center of town”

It would seem that James wasn’t a fan of that idea either, because in only a few seconds he's shifted into his werewolf form as well and circles around to the groups one side. They seem a bit shocked by his telltale white fur, no doubt connecting it to the legends that run rampant of when he was younger and kill crazy under the service of another vampire named Vasily Karpov.

“Certainly you recognize the white wolf as being the one your kind calls the Winter soldier” Natasha states, venom clear in her tone, “And as you can see, he is not alone. Surrender and I might spare these citizens their lives”

A third man shakes his head, “We don’t make deals. We’re leaving here with your head”

“You won’t be leaving at all”

Her comment is as good as a command, and you surge forward with a roar. The recognizable sound of a crossbow firing can be heard only seconds before your teeth are tearing into the soft flesh of the man's neck, and the metallic smell of blood fills the air.

Upon seeing this, two of the men attempt to scramble away, but James moves after them. He jumps on the first one, sinking his claws into his back as he bites down on the man's shoulder. He yells out a strangled cry for help before his neck is snapped by a large paw. The other man looks on in sheer horror as he frees his blade, it shakes in his hold but he's determined to not die without landing a blow

“Come on then, come get some!”

He lets out a growl that sounds rather like an amused chuckle before striking, tearing open the man's leg with his razor sharp claws. The man yells as he collapses, and he wildly swings his knife, catching your mate with the blade. It slides across his fur covered forearm leaving a small gash and terrible burning sensation in its wake. He quickly swats the blade from the man's grasp, breaking his wrist in the process before getting right up in his face.

He stares him down as he slowly bleeds out, having had his artery severed by claws not too long ago, but his attention quickly switches to you when the smell of your blood hits his nostrils…

The man that had stayed near you instead of running had watched on in disgust as you ripped away a part of his friend's windpipe before dropping his body. And he knew as soon as your eyes locked onto him that he was next. He decides to be brave as you walk forward, and he fires another bolt into you. Unlike the earlier one that lodged itself in your shoulder, this one hits your abdomen, causing an involuntary whine to leave you as blood drips down to the stone floor. But you don’t allow this to slow you down, and you rush him before he has a chance to reload. He screams as your claws tear into him, ripping open his abdomen and spilling his guts.

But before you can finish him off, the pain sets in, and it's quite clear even in your animalistic state that the tips of the bolts had been silver. You recoil from him, letting out another whine as your paw wraps around the arrow in your shoulder, and you yank it out with all your might.

The pain nearly has you on all fours at this point, and James quickly rushes to you. His head rests in the crook of your neck as his tongue laps at your shoulder injury. You whine again, almost collapsing as the silver rushes through your bloodstream and Wanda finds she can’t hold back anymore

She rushes over and carefully runs her hand through the black fur of your uninjured shoulder. Your head turns to her, and she swears she sees your eyes light up as you take in her presence. She watches as you sway, clearly weakened by this attack and she helps you lean into her. Though smaller in size, vampires are amazingly strong and she has no issues helping keep you upright. As she does so, the last of the crowd clears from the doorways, and the Countesses vampire guards make their way into the room.

“It's about time!” she shouts, trying to keep her worry for you under wraps, “Get the elders out of here and safely to their carriages, and put these humans back in the dungeons”

“But, my Lady- ”

“Go! My wolves took care of the threat and now the elders would like to be in their own castles, see that they at least get safely out of mine!”

The nod, “Of course. At once”

As soon as the room is empty, she rushes to join Wanda at your side, “How bad is it?”

“She can hardly stand Tasha, I think it was silver” she admits, pulling away from your now human form

The Countess frowns, knowing you must be really weak to allow that to happen just now. In all the years of knowing you, she's never seen you become human again in front of them, likely due to your nakedness. She rubs the fur of James shoulder to gain his attention, and he looks over at her

“Can you carry her to our room?”

Though confused, he nods and scoops you up into his arms. It agitates his own injury slightly, and he winces, but he powers through it easily.

“Set her on the bed” Wanda tells him, and he does as he's told. Only he refuses to move away from you

Natasha reaches up to rub his muzzle, “I know you're scared right now, but please James, I need you to step back so I can help her”

His eyes move from her, to you and he takes a few hesitant steps to the side, giving her enough room to maneuver around you. There's still a bolt lodged in your abdomen that is likely causing an extreme amount of pain as well as letting silver remain inside you, but she can’t remove it. Not until she deals with your shoulder wound that's bleeding profusely

“Just hang on, Y/n” she whispers, grabbing the cloth Wanda hands her. She presses it into the wound, causing you to whimper, “I know, I’m sorry.”

Wanda hands her a blade then, and James watches in awe as the Countess slices open her own wrist, letting her own blood pour out. He knows she intends to offer it to you, as a vampire's blood has healing properties. But he also knows that this is completely unheard of. He's never known a vampire to allow a wolf in their bed like this, and he certainly knows that none have ever let themselves be fed off of by a wolf. He knew Natasha was a kind vampire to werewolves, much kinder than most, but still he can’t help but think that something different is going on here.

“Y/n, I need you to drink, okay? Please.”

You weakly take the wrist she has offered you, attaching your lips to her soft flesh and begin to let the coppery flavor of her blood wash over your tongue.

To your surprise, you immediately start to feel its effects as the pain in your shoulder numbs. And you're fairly certain you can feel the wound trying to close itself, something your healing factor normally wouldn't help with when silver was involved. She moves the cloth away with her free hand, and sure enough it's only a small injury now.

"Okay, I'm going to pull this one out now" she says, gesturing to the bolt in your belly, "It's going to hurt"

You nod and she pulls, causing you to grimace around her wrist. And honestly if she wasn't so worried about you, she would have been going insane over the feeling of your lips and teeth on her skin

"That's it, keep drinking" she tells you, turning to look at her girlfriend, "Wanda, James is hurt too, let him drink from you"

The brunette picks up the knife and holds it to her wrist before looking up at the looming white werewolf, "You can shift back if you'd like, unless you're more comfortable like that"

His head tilts to the side like some confused dog as he thinks on it, before deciding to shift back. Wanda watches in amazement as he turns back into the man she's familiar with

"There we go" she says with a smile, but before she can cut herself his hand in hers stops her

"You don't have to. I appreciate it, and I appreciate you, my Lady, helping Y/n. But my injury isn't in a vital area. You don't need to"

"James, Natasha helped Y/n because she cares. Deeply. As do I. And we feel the same about you. I don't care if it's not fatal or that it will eventually heal. I can help you not to hurt now, so I'm going to " she explains, effectively causing both his heart and yours to race

"Okay"

Wanda slices herself as soon as he lets go and gives him her wrist, "Now drink"

As he does as he's told, Nat removes her wrist from your mouth as she looks you over. She tries not to let her eyes wander, only intending to make sure your injuries are closed, but when she sees your v line and happy trail she can't help but glance further down. She bites the inside of her lip to hold back a groan, because even soft you're bigger than she's ever had the pleasure of taking. But your voice pulls her eyes and attention away

"Thank you. You didn't have to save me"

"Of course I did" her eyes soften as she looks at you, and you swear you're dreaming when her hand cups the side of your face, "I couldn't let you die. Besides, you saved me tonight too"

You can't help but be confused, "But that's my duty to you as your guard. You…you don't have that duty"

"I don't. But Wanda's right, I care about you and about James far more than a Countess should. And I have felt this way for a very long time. As has Wanda" she explains, leaning closer, “And I think, the two of you feel the same way”

“We do” you admit, your heart fluttering as you get lost in her intense gaze

She smiles, “Good, then you won’t mind me doing this”

She leans in and captures your lips with her own, and you move your hand to cup the back of her head to ensure she stays there. Her lips are so plush, and they fit perfectly against your own. It’s better than you ever imagined, and when her tongue prods your lip for entrance, you eagerly allow it. You then wrap your arms around her waist to pull her even closer, causing her to let out a soft moan. The scene practically has James’s jaw hanging open

“Why let them have all the fun?” Wanda says, bringing him out of his daze and offering him her hand now that he's done drinking from her

He swiftly takes it and she leads him to the other side of the bed. Before she can say or do anything however, his hands grasp her hips and pull her against him. She lets out a small sound of surprise before he leans in, pressing his lips against hers in an awaited kiss. Without realizing it, he leans her backwards, letting her come to rest on the mattress below.

When all four of you finally pull away from each other, James helps Wanda out of her dress and jewels while you do the same with the redhead above you. With all four of you finally able to see each other fully, you each silently study the other. Each of you intends to take in every freckle and scar, committing them to memory before giving in and worshiping each other.

Natasha makes the first move, smirking at you seductively before effortlessly flipping your positions. With you now on top of her she guides your hands to her body, “Make me feel good, baby”

Your hands begin to caress her sides, slowly making their way up to her chest while your mouth kisses along her jawline. When your hands finally cup her breasts, your mouth has moved to her collarbone, where you leave a few of your own marks beside some of Wanda's older ones. The Countess shudders in anticipation as her core throbs, spilling her essence to the bedsheets below.

Beside you, James does similarly. His hands squeeze the brunette's tits while his mouth trails the valley between them, leaving kisses in his wake. Wanda squirms beneath him, a flushed mess as she feels her arousal drip between her thighs. She's honestly surprised by her girlfriend's patience, as hers has run out.

“James” she calls out, her voice a bit raspier than usual. His eyes glance up at her but his mouth never leaves her chest, "I need you lower"

He eagerly obliges and slides himself further down pressing gentle kisses against her bare stomach before settling before her mound. His eyes darken as he sees how wet she already is, and his tongue darts out to taste her.

“Ooh” she moans as his tongue gently parts her folds and enters her awaiting hole. He swirls the muscle around before pulling back to suck on her clit, causing her to clench around nothing, “Feels so good, baby”

He hums at the praise, causing her to roll her hips against him as she seeks out more pleasure. He obliges by pushing his tongue back inside her, letting her walls squeeze him as his nose brushes against her bundle of nerves.

Hearing her girlfriend moan beside her has Natasha eager for the same treatment. But she needs not wait long, as you're already busy marking up her plush thighs.

“Y/n…” she sighs as you test her patience, so you finally give into both of your desires

You practically dive in, attaching your lips to her clint instantly, earning yourself a loud moan from the woman. She quickly brings one her hands to tangle in your hair to hold you close as the other hand twists up the sheets

“Fuck….just like that” she encourages, scratching lightly at your scalp, “Good girl”

Her juices drip down your chin as you slip your tongue inside her, causing more sounds of pleasure to come from her. They mix with Wandas as you both work on getting them to come undone.

It’s not long before both vampires are writhing, their muscles tightening as they begin to reach the peak of their bliss. You and James increase the pace of your mouth's movements as you both hold down their thighs to avoid being crushed.

“Fuck!” Wanda shouts as she treats your mate to a gush of her cum, which he happily swallows

The sounds of her girlfriend coupled with your motions is enough to have Nat falling over the edge as well, “Oh god!”

Her grip on your hair tightens as you continue your movements for a bit, until she slumps back against the bed. Though neither of you want to, you both pull away, not wanting to overstimulate either woman. They both look at you and JAmes through hooded eyes, clearly still blissed out as smiles grace their features

You and your mate share a similar smile as you glance at each other, clearly forming an unspoken plan with each other. This plan is put in motion quickly as the two of you trade places on the bed, allowing you to each slide between the legs of the other woman you’ve yet to please, and taste.

You effortlessly wrap your arms around Wanda's thighs and pull her close to you, making her moan deeply as your lips make contact with her still sensitive pussy. Natasha makes a similar sound as James’ tongue slides inside her. You both work at the same pace as before, making both women shudder as their second orgasms quickly approach. Wanda's hand instinctively reaches out to grab her girlfriend's hand, and they both shout out your names as they cum again. You both help work them through it before pulling away to let them calm down.

It takes them a moment to regain their composure, but once they do, Natasha is sure to praise you both, “They did so good for us, didn't they detka(baby)?”

“They sure did. Took such good care of us” Wanda agrees, reaching down to affectionately stroke your cheek

Natasha hums in agreement, “I think it's time to take care of them, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes”

You and James watch them with anticipation as they stand from the bed, gesturing at where they once were laying. You quickly understand the implication and both move up the mattress to take their places. They both eye you hungrily as they realize you're both hard, and both leaking precum.

Natasha moves to straddle James, reaching down to grab his cock. She gently wraps her fingers around it, causing him to moan as she jerks him off. His head leans back against the pillows as she presses his tip against her entrance, and she then moans as he slips inside. She slowly sinks down, bracing herself with her hands on his chest as he bottoms out inside her

“Fuck…” he whimpers as his hands move to her hips, “You feel so good”

She smiles down at him, “Mmm, so do you. Filling me so well.”

As she begins to rock her hips, Wanda makes her way to you, straddling your lap with a confident smirk. She strokes your cock as she lines herself up with you, and you both moan in unison as she begins to sink down on you. Your hands cup her breasts in effort to add to her pleasure as hers rest against your abdomen, and she whimpers as stills against your hips

“So big” she mutters, not used to anything other than Natashas fingers inside her

With your ego boosted you smile up at her with a cocky grin, “You think we’re big now, you should see us in our other form”

The thought alone has them both clenching around you, causing both you and James to moan as their movements increase in speed. An your mate glances over at you with a knowing look

“I think they like the sound of that” you tease, only to be shut up by the brunettes lips on your own

“Damn right we do” Natasha admits, still eagerly riding James’ cock, “After Wans and I make you two see stars, we want you wolf forms to claim us. You don’t need Omegas now that you have us.”

James grunts at her words and tightens his on her hips, she's almost sure it’ll bruise and that excites her, “Does that sound good, handsome? Does the idea of knocking us up excite you?”

“Yes…” he breathes out as his cock twitches inside her, “We’ve never wanted Omegas, only the two of you”

Wanda pulls away from you, looking into your eyes as she continues her hips movements, “Yeah?”

“Yeah” you assure, wrapping an arm around her waist, “All we ever thought about was you two”

At your confession, Natasha leans over and connects her lips to James’ while the brunette on top of you cups your face. Even without words, it's clear the sentiment is the same for the two of them. Besides each other, all they thought of was the two of you. And that paired with they way they both still ride you, neither of you will last much longer.

“Fuck…Wanda, I’m gonna cum” you grit out, trying to hold yourself back until you know she's close as well

She moans at your words and her walls tighten around you, “Go on baby, cum in me”

With her permission you unload inside of her, sending her over the edge directly after you. You hold her close as you thrust your hips upward, helping her ride through her orgasm.

Beside you, Natasha pants, quickly approaching her own climax, “Thats it, being such a good boy for me. Keep going, I’m so close”

He nods in understanding, “Me too. God…I’m gonna fill you up”

Natasha moans loudly, cumming all over his cock at his words, but his hands continue to guide her in her movements until he spills inside her. She practically collapses against him once he's finished, and he runs a soothing hand through her hair.

A few minutes pass before the four of you have caught your breath, but once you have, you look over at the redhead resting against your mate, “Did you mean what you said? About our wolf forms?”

She reaches out to caress her girlfriends back, who still lays on your chest, before answering, “Yes. We want you both in every way we can have you. Right, dorogoy(darling)?”

“Right” she answers, kissing your chest, “Please Y/n?”

James looks over at you, “Come on, love. If they want to be ours, who are we to deny them that?”

You nod, “You're right”

The two of you carefully move the two girls off of you as you stand, and once they’re situated you both make your way to the foot of the bed. James gently grabs your waist and pulls you against him before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. You eagerly lean into it and wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close for a moment

After the two of you break apart you walk away from the bed a bit to ensure there's enough space before shifting forms. The two vampires watch in awe as you both transform, and their jaws nearly drop as they take in the size of your still erect cocks.

You both walk over to the bed, eyeing them as if they were prey. Which, in a way, they were. Just not the kind to be attacked or eaten, but the kind to be claimed. You lick your maw as you climb above the Countess, and she reaches out to stroke the fur covering your chest.

“Come on, baby. Use me.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth you reach out your large paws to flip her over, showing off her ass to you. She gets the idea and moves to be on all fours below you, and you eagerly bend over her. She can feel your throbbing member resting just against her folds and grinds back into you, showing how eager she is for you.

Seeing the position you have her girlfriend in, Wanda quickly moves to get in the same one, hoping to entice James to come to her faster. Her plan works and he moves to hover over her. He gently licks the back of her shoulder as he lines himself up with her and he pushes his tip against her pussy.

She moans loudly and pulls at the sheets as he pushes himself further inside her, stretching her open even further than she had been on your human cock earlier. He stills for a moment to let her adjust to the new size, only continuing to move once her breathing evened out. Now fully inside her, he lets out a possessive growl and drops a bit more of his body weight on top of her as he waits for you and Natasha to catch up.

Seeing how your mate has already mounted Wanda, you move your hips back slightly before moving them forward again and you slowly begin to slide into the woman beneath you. She moans and reaches out to grab ahold of one of your giant paws to help ground herself as you inch forward until you're all the way inside her and you thank her by softly licking her neck

“Please” Wanda whimpers, moving to look at James the best she can in her current position, “Please fuck me”

With a grunt he begins to move, slamming his hips into hers without little care for how rough his movements may be. His sole focus now is on his pleasure, and filling the brunette with his seed. His powerful thrusts have Wanda a mess beneath him, and all she can do is make sounds of pleasure as his cock pulses inside of her.

Below you, Natasha wiggles her hips in an attempt to entice you, “Come on Y/n, please”

You thrust your hips forward with a growl and move your paw to be on top of the hand that was once holding onto you as you start to pound into her. Noises similar to Wandas leave her as your movements never falter and she nearly screams in pleasure when you brush up against her cervix

“Oh god….oh god” Wanda mumbles, feeling her own arousal drip down her thighs as she approaches her third orgasm of the evening, “Don’t stop”

He grunts as he increases his pace, proving to her that he had no intention of doing such a thing. He can feel her walls tighten around him, which only spurs him on. He lowers his head next to hers, letting her hear him pant against her ear which proves to be enough to tip her over the edge

“James!” she shouts, and he nuzzles against her as she shakes but continues to fuck her, not planning on stopping until his knot is buried inside her.

Your hips slam into Natashas with a similar roughness, causing the redhead to whimper. She tries her best to force her hips back to meet your thrusts, intent on chasing her next orgasm that's oh so close. And all it takes to send her over is your other paw moving to grab at her chest

“Oh fuck! Y/n!” she yells as her walls squeeze you in a way nothing ever has before. But you don’t let up either, only thinking about locking your knot into place so you can fill her properly.

The two of you continue to rut into them with such force that has their arms nearly giving out, but neither cares too much as you both have their eyes rolling to the back of their heads and drool dripping down their chins. Neither has ever felt pleasure this intensely before, and they honestly aren't sure they ever want it to stop. But just as that thought crosses their minds they can feel themselves approaching their climax once again, and they are eager to be filled with potent werewolf cum.

“Please, please, please” Wanda begs, grasping the sheets so hard its a wonder they don’t tear, “Please knot me, please”

James grunts, a bit surprised at first that she knows enough about werewolf anatomy and breeding to know of a knot, but when he remembers their admittance of wanting this for a long time he gets the idea that they may have looked into it just to understand the two of you better. And that thought has his knot instantly growing. It slams into Wanda's pussy a few times, and feeling how big it is she nearly changes her mind, but with a final hard shove from him, it slips inside her

“Ooh god!” she moans as his hot cum practically pours inside her, sending her into her yet another orgasm

As Nat watches Wanda practically collapse from exhaustion and pleasure her excitement of being knotted by you nearly doubles and she does her best to turn her head to face you

“Please baby, I want your knot.” she whimpers, “I need it”

Her admittance has your knot growing, and she can’t help but moan as it slams against her. Then, without warning it slips inside fully and locks into place, and she swears she cums so hard she sees white as your seed seemingly endlessly pumps into her. She also practically collapses, so you and James both ease them into a prone position as you both gently lay on top of them, and without meaning to they both begin to drift off.

By the time they come back around, you and JAmes are human again, and are spooning them from behind. Large smiles envelope their faces as they realize that you both not only stayed but you had also cleaned them up a bit

“Ah, you're awake” James says from behind Wanda. She hums in acknowledgement but its NAtasha that speaks

“Hopefully not for long. Just wanted to check on the two of you”

“We’re fine, love” you assure, pressing a kiss to her still bare shoulder, “And we aren’t going anywhere”

“Besides, how much safer could the two of you be now that your guards sleep in the same bed as you” James teases, causing all of you to chuckle

“Promise you’ll be here?” Wanda mumbles, clearly only moments away from returning to slumber

James squeezes her a bit tighter as you answer, “We promise”

She give you a sleepy smile, “I love you all”

“Love you too detka(baby)” Nat replies before James and you answer in unison

“We love you too”

Nat smiles as her girlfriend closes her eyes, “I also love you both”

“And we love you too” you answer

“Indeed we do” James says, nearly drifting off to sleep himself

“Sleep now” Nat tells him, turning to look at you, “You as well.”

“Mkay” you admit with a yawn, pulling her even closer

And as the Countess feels the love and warmth of her three lovers around her, she knows that any risks that come with such a relationship, potential hybrid children and all, will be absolutely worth it if it means she gets to have this for the rest of time

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knightfeared · 6 months

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𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐈𝐑, 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑. Better that way, he muses softly, following the earthy trail beneath their feet, the way the wilderness around seemed to scream 'home' to him more then the space he'd made for himself in the city. It was supposedly more safe, carefully distanced from his past. & yet . . .

Maybe it was a passing time of the year, a yearning for something from an age long gone, long passed, unable to even reminisce upon fondly without fear of tearing open thinly healed wounds. Careful as he tried to be, for some reason, the other's presence helped smooth it down enough he could tenderly brush his fingertips atop them. Though it took them some time to actually get here, with Luis himself caving after one too many bribed treats & puppy-faced pleas to accompany the other on a simple walk away from the offices & labs they were both seemingly all too familiar with — he didn't regret it.

In a way, it reminded him of those far simpler times, when he was a boy wandering through his home village. Curious, but comfortable, surrounded by greenery, nature. It'd been awhile since he was able to find solace in such an environment following the mess in Valdelobos . . .

Curling his fingers tighter around the rich, heated drink, the scent of his coffee is a soothing one. Waiting, he wonders just what the bright-eyed soldier's response would consist of. So far, he was one of the only ones who bothered to look at him as a person, not constantly aware of all his past failings at his feet like iron chains & tethering weights.

( Well-deserved as they are . . . this is nice . . . )

Nice to be treated human for once. It felt normal — woefully boring as it used to be viewed as, it's a cradling lull he's come to desire deeply, a temporary pretend at the mundane. Swallowing thickly, he lifts his drink up, allowing the heat of it to seep into chilled fingertips, the clatter of his rings against one another, against the container itself heard faintly with all the same grace of a distant windchime. Wolf-gray hues stay fixated down at his hands, a humbled nod given when Blackstone speaks.

❝ & burn they do. ❞ It's quiet, agreeing, but there's a pain there even as he awkwardly chuckles, tries in what little way he can to save face. The scientist is more or less lost in how next to proceed, what to do to move on, to make proper amends for what he had such a great hand in pushing forwards. For lack of a better word, he was lost. Lost in his direction, the chain he bore & the threadbare freedom he held now linking him permanently to it all. He ducks his head, sighing.

❝ Ever the hero. This world . . . it'd crumble without people like you. ❞ A twitch of a smile, more of a phantom one than anything, he can't help but spot the faintest familiar glimmer of someone who'd changed his own life years back. Kennedy — that same stubborn want to protect, to fight & fight despite the odds that mounted higher. Insurmountable ones, ones that would make most sane men, however brave, turn on their heel & run with their tails tucked between their legs. Men like him were self-preservation was a cowardly but deeply ingrained instinct. Sipping at his drink, Luis hums, dragging himself from that train of thought before it can careen deeper down.

❝ But still . . . if there's one thing I've learned well — life isn't kind enough to give storybook endings. Your goal, it is a noble one. But you as well as anyone else should see how cruel reality is. Just . . . ❞ Shrugging a shoulder, giving his drink a lazy swirl, he can't bring himself to raise his eyes. Anxiously, he bounces his leg. ❝ Take care. I doubt that your loved ones would want to see you suffer if you can avoid it. There is no shame in that. ❞

Deflective as usual, he hates how easy it is to turn the conversation's direction onto someone else. Shying from the spotlight of a well-needed talk that he knows he'd need to have more honestly one day — but for the moment he prolongs it. Brows knit together, a slow tuttering sound made with the playful clucking of his tongue. A tired smile teases, but it's a weakened thing. He's grateful, but he knows better than to get greedy these days, even with something as small as kindness.

❝ You are welcome to try — though, I never shy from a chance to put up a good challenge. But, ah, I'll keep your words in mind. ❞ About as close to a thank you as he could grit loose. Lifting dulled silver sights up to meet with honeyed gold. ❝ Thank you. ❞

*CONTINUED. [ ; ] @nightlyvisitor

#╰┈➤ ┊❛ INTERACTIONS. ❜┊#nightlyvisitor #MUSE: [ LUIS SERRA NAVARRO. ]#╰┈➤ ┊❛ SAVED GAMES. / ARCHIVED REPORTS. ❜┊#❝ I was the one with the world at my feet. Got us a battle - leave it up to me. ❞ . [ NIGHTLY VISITOR ]

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theegoist · 4 months

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Endre Nemes (Hungarian, 1909–1985) - Nattens Gäster (Nightly visitors), tempera on masonite, 152 x 122 cm (1947)

#endre nemes

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yandere-sins · 6 months

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Favorite

You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.

Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)

a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend.

It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn.

Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them.

Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"Hello, darling."

You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.

The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night.

Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.

He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you.

Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course.

You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.

"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.

Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position.

You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.

You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.

"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.

"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows.

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes.

"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."

His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head.

"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."

A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace.

"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."

You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"

"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."

This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear.

"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"

The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words.

Favorite. You were his favorite.

You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt.

"You're my undoing, pet."

"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."

Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.

"It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."

"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.

"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."

And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees.

You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.

"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.

Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."

"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."

It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."

"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything.

"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."

"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food.

"Oh, the food!"

His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it.

"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything, I promise."

His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.

"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."

There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.

"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."

"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin.

"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."

For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.

"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."

"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now.

"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."

There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?

But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place.

"That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake.

You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care.

By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.

"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."

You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead.

"And you're mine. All mine."

At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.

And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.

Because you were his favorite.

And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.

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